Pat Rollins: Autumn perch fishing surprisingly fun

Tuesday

Oct 23, 2012 at 3:15 AM

I’d just returned from a hunting trip and was in the middle of unloading my gear from the truck when Mike called to see if I was interested in joining him for a few hours of perch fishing on a small pond near his home.

“I’m gonna throw my Jon boat in the truck and go see if I can get a few yellow perch to bite,” he said. “I was hoping that you’d join me. Just grab your ultralight spinning rod and a handful of bobbers and head on over to the house.”

Well, the hunting trip didn’t end so well and the thought of catching a few fish sounded like fun, so I grabbed my duffel bag, tossed it in the mud room and gathered up my fishing gear. By the time I arrived at Mike’s, the boat was loaded and he was sitting on the porch waiting to go.

“The foliage is a little past peak, but there’s still plenty of color to look at while we wait for a bite,” he said.

“Hopefully we won’t have to wait to long,” I replied as I loaded my gear in the boat.”

The clouds began to roll in as we backed the boat down to the edge of the water, however, Mike assured me that it wasn’t suppose to rain. Then the wind started to blow and I could tell from the look on his face that even he thought we might get wet.

After climbed aboard, Mike fired up the four horse outboard and asked where I thought we might start fishing.

“In the channel,” I suggested. “The water must be four feet deeper there and I got a feeling that’s where the perch will be holding.”

“Sounds good to me,” he replied as he turned the boat northward to the main channel which was flanked by two large patched of weeds.

When we arrived at the beginning of the channel Mike killed the motor and I dropped anchor right in the center of the ten foot wide channel.

What you gonna fish with first?” he asked.

“Thought I’d try this little pink rubber bait with all these tiny legs,” I said as I held it up for him to see.

“What is that?” he asked “I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

“I don’t know what it’s called or who made it. I’ve had them for years and had some luck with them during the fall,” I answered.

While I tied that bait on my line, Mike put a small chartreuse colored curly tailed grub on his eighth ounce jig head. We both made long casts in the middle of the channel and began to reel our baits back to the boat. I tried a slow retrieve, letting my lure bump the weeds on the bottom as I brought it back. Mike went with a quick retrieve.

I must have made two or three dozen casts before I finally got a bite. I’d just switched my lure to a small split tailed yellow grub and as I hopped it back to the boat I felt a hard tap on the lure. I tried to set the hook, but missed the first strike. Then as I lifted it off the bottom, I got another bite and managed to set the hook.

“There’s a fish!” I shouted as leaves fell from the trees as the wind blew as my tiny rod buckled.

I carefully fought the fish back to the boat on the four pound test line and when I got it along side the boat, Mike scooped the ten inch long yellow perch up in a net.

“That’s a good one,” he said as he dropped the net and set the hook on a fish of his own.

During the next few minutes we both managed to hook into several yellow perch just off the channel amongst a few pieces of timber that protruded from the surface. Then as quickly as we got the first bite, the action stopped.

“Let’s move around the corner and try fishing that other area of timber,” Mike suggested. “These perch seem to be hanging around the stumps.”

We fished a couple areas along the way, however, we couldn’t beg a bite. Then, as soon as we threw a lure close to a small tree stump, we got yet another strike. Like the first spot, after we caught a few perch, they stopped biting.

When the action stopped, we decided to call it a day.

“That was fun,” Mike admitted. “It’s hard to believe that two grown men could have so much fun catching yellow perch.”